


Fate In The Shape Of An Emerald

by MxVampirePunk, NamelesslyNightlock



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki Is Bad At Feelings, M/M, Possessive Loki (Marvel), Superstition, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, loki is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 05:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16988724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxVampirePunk/pseuds/MxVampirePunk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Tony has never been a superstitious person– he prefers to believe in facts, in what he can see with his own eyes. But when it’s proven with data andsciencethat the only way to avoid random near death experiences is to wear the colour green… well. In that case, it’s better to be safe than sorry.





	Fate In The Shape Of An Emerald

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AshAndSnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshAndSnow/gifts).



> You know what you did.  
>   
> For everyone else- this started as a discussion on discord about superstitions relating to certain colours, and then escalated rather quickly from there.

It started with a piano.

And yes, okay, that all seems rather mundane- plenty of things start with pianos and most of them dull, but since this specific piano was falling from a good thirty feet up and nearly landed on Tony’s head, it was of particular note.

Tony, of course, has been in many situations where he’s almost lost his life, and perhaps as a general rule, this single instance would have passed by relatively unnoticed.

Thing is... it wasn’t just a single instance.

As days passed it became clear that it was the first of a random string of coincidences that were attacking Tony _personally,_ not one of them predictable nor even anywhere within the realm of normalcy.

The day after the piano, a seagull swooped out of nowhere, and would have taken Tony’s eye if Pepper hadn’t whacked it with a plastic folder. And yeah, seagulls can be rather vicious but the fact that he was in the middle of an SI shareholders meeting at the time made things, well, _interesting_.

A hot dog stand exploded on day three.

He almost choked on a blueberry on day four (and that was a betrayal of the _highest_ calibre. Tony _loved_ blueberries. Ugh.)

For god’s sake, on day five, he was nearly mauled by a Labrador. _A Labrador_. One of the nicest creatures to roam the earth.

There was clearly something up, and Tony was at the stage of looking over his shoulder every few seconds to try and watch out for the next near death experience when something miraculous happened.

On day six, Tony didn’t nearly die.

Not _once_.

It wasn’t even just that there was no strange occurance, no rabid seagulls or malicious fruit - no, on day six, things went _impossibly_ smooth.

Not only were there no random instances of danger popping up from nowhere, but moments that would have been dangerous suddenly became not so.

Some were rather simple, such as when Tony moved to the left to step out of a stranger’s path, and in doing so avoided stepping in a nasty puddle.

But others…

Well.

There was one moment when Tony’s phone rang, and he picked it up to a panicked Steve.

“There’s a situation on Broadway,” Steve said, speaking fast and urgent, and Tony thought, _this it. Here comes near death experience Number 6._ “There’s a gun, and you’re closest. None of the rest of us are going to be able to—”

The sudden pause made Tony nervous. “Uh, Cap?”

“Oh,” said Steve, sounding shocked. “Never mind.”

It was one of the shortest and strangest calls he’d had with Steve to date, and when he asked JARVIS, the AI seemed equally stumped.

“It would seem that the threat was eliminated by an unknown party, Sir,” JARVIS explained. “The perpetrator has been dropped off at a police station, bound and gagged.”

“Unknown? Is there any footage?”

“Unfortunately not. It has been… corrupted.”

“What?” Tony frowned. It was Broadway, in the early evening, in the middle of summer. Surely at least a few _tourists_ would have had their smartphones ready? “Did you check social media?”

“Of course I did,” JARVIS replied, affronted. “As you would say, Sir- this is not my first rodeo.”

“Yeah, yeah. Stop trying to be cute.”

So, Tony had absolutely no idea what happened there, and he’d keep looking into it (to no avail). But, well, the fact was that there was a _perfect_ opportunity for whatever shitty karma had been following him around to take him out, but the situation had been resolved in a sketchy but incredibly efficient manner…

Tony had never been a superstitious person, but there was just something about this that niggled at a corner in his mind. Maybe it _was_ karma, coming in waves of good and bad. A whole slew of bad meant a whole heap of good, right?

Wrong.

Day seven involved not only a close call with a motorbike, but also a particularly determined squirrel that somehow managed to get hold of an entire pizza and cart it out of the penthouse window before JARVIS even warned Tony that it was there.

_Bastard._

Okay. So there was definitely something strange at work, and Tony was sure as hell going to figure out what it was.

He was a genius after all, with near unlimited resources at his disposal.

How long could it possibly take?

~•~

It took a month.

A whole. Fucking. Month.

But hey, the best results take time and by the end of that fucking terrifying month, Tony had finally collected enough data to come to a conclusion.

JARVIS was an absolute godsend, thinking of things that Tony never would have. The AI ran the algorithms, and when the day came, Tony stared at the screen in confusion.

Tony would never doubt his own creations, but...

“J.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Are you _sure?_ ”

“Sir.” JARVIS has this special kind of dry tone that no one else could ever replicate, and Tony was at least 98% sure he hadn’t programmed it in there. He suspected Pepper had something to do with it. “I have run every number for every piece of data. I have catalogued every person you have spoken to, everywhere you have been, and everything you have done, consumed, touched, said, and _worn_. The data is conclusive.”

Right. Yeah. JARVIS had been pretty thorough.

And apparently, the one, single commonality that linked all of his ‘safe’ days was a very particular footnote in his fashion choices, because every single day that he didn’t nearly die, Tony had been wearing something green.

It wasn’t the same item- it wasn’t even always clothing. On day six, JARVIS said, Tony had been wearing a bottle green tie. On day eleven, green-tinted glasses. On day fifteen, it had been his Hulk-patterned socks.

JARVIS was right, the evidence was clear—

If he wore something green, he managed to avoid having a close encounter with the wrong side of the veil.

So, yeah.

While Tony had never been a superstitious person, from that moment on, he thought he’d better always make sure to wear green. You know… just to be safe.

~•~

Sometimes, having friends who care is the absolute best thing in the world. Tony usually loves that they care enough to worry, that they might even think of how to help him out. Sometimes, though, Tony wished they could all believe in his ability to look after himself a little more.

“I’m not sure that this is the best idea, Tony,” Pepper said, following him around the penthouse as he prepared to go _outside_.

“There’s really nothing to worry about,” Tony tried, but there was no stopping Pepper when she’s made her mind up about something.

“We still don’t know what’s causing this! Have you at least told the other Avengers what’s going on?”

“Don’t worry,” Tony soothed. “JARVIS and I have worked it out, and we’ve done a few tests—”

“This isn’t the sort of thing you can prevent just through sheer stubbornness! The incidents have been entirely random—”

“Pep, it’s all good,” Tony insisted. “I’ve got it handled. I haven’t had a near death experience in ages. Oh, hey! We should get one of those signs, the whiteboards, you know? _It has been x number of days since our last incident_.”

Pepper did not look impressed.

“Aw, come on Pep, it’s fine see?” He raised his arms slightly, showing off his olive green cuffs.

Somehow, Pepper managed to appear even _more_ unimpressed than before. Surely that shouldn’t be allowed.

“Tony,” she said, “You can’t put your life on the line because of a– a hunch!”

Tony waved her off, and pretended to check his phone. “Look, I’ve got to go. But um, hey, I’ll take your advice with me!”

“Tony- Tony, don’t you dare!” she warned, trying and failing to stop him as he darted past and slipped out of the room. “Tony!”

He grinned all the way down in the elevator, but paused when he reached the door.

What if he was wrong?

What if it didn’t _work_?

It was only as he caught himself casting furtive glances side to side that he realised the ridiculousness of it- there he was, _Iron Man_ , one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, and he was afraid to step outside his own front door?

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and shoved through the revolving door, taking quick, purposeful steps until he emerged into the fresh air on the other side.

He braced himself, waiting.

A car honked. Someone dropped their coffee. A bird flew into a glass window.

 _Ha,_ Tony thought, glancing up and smirking in the direction of Pepper’s office. _I knew it._

~•~

When the blaring alarm to Assemble reverberated through the Tower, Tony managed to stay calm. The alarm hadn’t gone off in a while - something which, obviously, could be contributed to Tony’s ever vigilant wardrobe choices - but of course, he’d known that it would only be a matter of time. The suits were ready as always, and he was prepared to kick some robot ass.

That just left him to decide upon what to _wear_.

Tony had thought about wearing green underwear, or a maybe just a green shirt under his armour, but really? Why take the risk? It was probably better to have the green visible so instead, Tony grabbed one of his many silk ties from where he’d left it draped over a screen in the workshop - an Armani in a lovely pear green - and wrapped it around his left gauntlet.

“Are you sure you don’t wish to wear more of your new lucky colour, Sir?”

Tony rolled his eyes at JARVIS’ sass, and shot out from the workshop and up toward the clear blue sky.

“I don’t really have time, J.”

Executing a perfect roll and quickly changing directions, Tony headed toward the target on his digital map. According to the data on his HUD, the disturbance was taking place in the air above the Baxter Building, which usually would have meant that Tony needn’t bother– but the Fantastic Four had, of course, chosen _this week_ to go on a family vacation to Maui, leaving the Avengers to clean up their mess.  

And maybe Tony wouldn’t have minded, if it was some run of the mill criminal– if it were Batroc the Leaper, or Blizzard, or hell, even the Wrecking Crew. That would have been a quick in, out, hand them over to the police and then head home in time for tea. But when Tony rounded the corner and saw fucking Doctor Doom in all his caped glory, floating above the building and surrounded by dozens of flying Doombots, the words that came out of his mouth could have given Wade Wilson a run for his money.

Great. This was _not_ going to be quick and easy.

“Our friendly Latverian monarch is on the rampage again,” Tony said across the comms, and nearly smiled when Clint’s response was very similar to his own.

“Please try to keep that sort of language off the radio,” Steve groaned, his tone that of a man who knows he’s already lost. “How many are there, Iron Man?”

“Lots.”

There was the sound of a snort, and Tony grinned when he recognised the sarcastic voice that followed.

“Oh yes, that’s helpful.”

“I aim to please, Reindeer Games.”

Loki had been accompanying the team on missions for the past several months now, and Tony had been enjoying it immensely. The god fought like he was possessed, winning every scuffle with hardly a sweat, and even Clint couldn’t deny that Loki’s magic was incredibly useful. These days, Thor could be heard practically singing at all hours of the day about how happy he was to be fighting by Loki’s side again, and while Tony didn’t really appreciate the attempts to hit a high note or the magical explosions that tended to follow such outbursts, he could certainly appreciate the sentiment.

Loki’s magic was _awesome_.

Plus, their banter was always _on point_ , no matter how many times Steve told them off for ‘chatter’.

Doom might be a right pain in the ass, but Tony had the slightest suspicion that watching Loki take on the lesser sorcerer was going to be magnificent.

Speaking of—

“Whoa, okay,” said Clint, the comms doing a remarkable job of capturing his deadpan delivery. “I agree with Tony. That is a hell of a lot of Doombots.”

Tony caught only a glimpse of the quinjet as it appeared from between the tightly packed buildings, for in that moment something heavy collided with his side and he realised that he’d been hovering in place for a second too long.

The Doombot held Tony’s arms against his sides, preventing him from properly steering– but his feet remained unhindered and it was a simple matter to explode upwards with sudden acceleration, causing the Doombot to lose its grip. The flaps on the back of the suit flew open and Tony’s accent stopped, giving him the perfect opportunity to spin in the air and catch the Doombot in the side with a well-aimed repulsor blast.

“Well,” said Tony, watching as it fell in bits to the thankfully empty street below. “That was easy.”

“Aw, Tony,” Clint complained immediately. “Why’ve you gotta go and—”

The archer was cut off by an explosion and a peel of evil laughter that echoed from the top of the building.

Right.

Adjusting his repulsors to full power, Tony charged into the fray with teeth bared and all weapons blazing. Steve was in his ear, laying out the basis for the plan. Tony was concentrating on exploding any Doombot he came across, but he got the gist of it. He was the distraction, taking out as many Doombots as possible and keeping them busy while Steve, Natasha, and Clint worked on getting to the head of the snake. Thor was on bot duty too, as was Hulk- and Loki, never able to follow any role in a plan that wasn’t his own, was delegated as a floater. Simple, effective, easy to remember, and right up Tony’s alley.

Destroying Doombots is _fun_.

Tony was on maybe his sixth lap of the Baxter Building, cutting down bots left and right, when he saw Thor getting swamped down below. Taking the calculated risk, he swooped down to help him out, scattering them with a few well placed explosives. Thor grinned at the fireworks, and with the new space to move he raised his arms and brought down the lightning, causing Tony to dive out of the way and land to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

“Hey Thor,” Tony greeted. “Having fun?”

Thor’s brows furrowed as his enjoyment gave way to confusion. “Man of Iron,” he said, his eyes drawn to something at Tony’s side. “Why are you wearing my brother’s favour?”

Tony blinked. “Sorry, what?”

Thor went to reply, but paused to first blast down a Doombot that had been approaching from the left. Once that was done, he looked back to Tony with a confused look in his eye.

“You wear Loki’s colour,” he said, gesturing at Tony’s wrist with his hammer.

Tony couldn’t help but glance down, as if he were surprised to find the green length of silk still wrapped around his wrist.

For a moment, he was lost for words. He didn’t exactly want to admit to Thor that he had recently come to rely on a simple colour for protection like some superstitious medieval peasant, but trying to think of another believable explanation was going to take an amount of concentration he didn’t think he could spare.

“It’s not because of Loki,” he said instead, hoping to fend off any further questions with quick denial and, the old classic- answering a question with another question. “Why on Earth would it be?”

“Not on Earth, but on Asgard, there is a certain custom.” Thor frowned as he spoke, and Tony got the sudden impression that he was about to be told something important. It was terrible timing of course, with his concentration split—

A flicker of metal in a alley behind Thor caught Tony’s attention, and he spun with his repulsors already charging. Thor ducked Tony’s attack and the Doombot fell. But then another one charged in from the other side and Tony was a bit slow to get his hand up—

And then a sharp blade sliced the Doombot’s head from its shoulders, Loki having appeared from nowhere and skewered it on a dagger.

“Should you not be focusing, brother?” Loki asked, his tone light and conversational despite the chaos raging around them.

“Loki,” Thor greeted with a touch of suspicion, narrowing his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Your job, apparently,” Loki replied, expertly aiming a dagger and taking out another bot that was a full thirty feet away. Impressive, as always. “Why are you pausing to talk when there are robots to be destroyed? This is unlike you.”

“Brother, I’ll not have you playing games—”

“The battle, Thor,” Loki repeated, sharper this time. Thor looked like he still wanted to argue, but nodded sharply nonetheless and raised his hammer, flying straight up and away in that annoying, physics defying manner of his.

“What was that about?” Tony asked. He wasn’t really expecting an answer, and had to hide a smile when Loki turned in his direction with a far more amused expression than when he had looked at Thor.

“Stark, get back to fighting,” he said fondly. “I don’t want to have to deal with Barton’s boasting if he manages to destroy more of these things than anyone else.”

Tony gave Loki a sarcastic salute, and then dove back in.

He kept a bird’s eye view of the battle, looping in the air to cover anyone that might need it. He would admit that the glimpse he saw of the others fighting was sight to behold. And Loki- _ngh_. The guy could _move_.

Sadly though, Tony lost sight of him as he tackled a Doombot just before it got to Steve.

“You okay there, Cap?”

“I’m fine,” Steve grunted, bracing against an incoming shot before throwing his shield to hit one of the damned things. “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony waved his nod off, covering him as he ran to retrieve his shield. That done, he darted back up for more.

“God, these things are _ugly_ ,” he complained just as he shot at yet another one. He only managed to knock it slightly off its path before it was scrambling right back and continuing towards him at an even quicker speed.

“Let me guess, they’d be all sleek and shiny if they had been made by SI?” Clint joked through the comms.

Tony snorted. “If they’d been made by SI, they wouldn’t be trying to destroy half the city.”

“Touché.”

The resilient bot from before took another swipe, and then Tony _snarled_. He knew he probably shouldn’t, but the bloody bot deserved it, so he ordered JARVIS to charge up the unibeam- and then grinned viciously when his strongest attack tore the damn thing to shreds.

_Take that, you fucker._

Distracted, the warning beep from his sensors came a moment too late, and the first Tony knew of the next Doombot was the blast that cut right past him, sending him spinning. The corner of his field of vision lit up. His armour screeched as he was hit and sent hurtling, almost thrown into the side of a building.

“Shit, shit, _shit,_ ” Tony swore as he stabilised himself, repulsors to the ground as he wobbled in the air.

“Sir?”

“What, J?” Tony muttered another curse as he twirled away and only just _narrowly_  avoided the next attack. He fired off another blast- and then shouted triumphantly as it hit its target.

“Sir,” JARVIS said again, sounding worried this time. “Your tie.”

Immediately, Tony looked down, just in time to watch as the last of the green cloth fell away, its ends burned to a crisp.

“Oh,” Tony gasped. “Oh, _no_.” He tripped on air, his heart racing. No, no, no, not _now_ —

Frantically, he cast his gaze all around– past experience had proved that everything and anything could be a weapon. The Doombots were still fighting, still blasting at the Avengers struggling to break though. He could hear the Hulk roaring and Doom cackling still, the crack of lightning, the distinctive _twang_ of vibranium hitting steel.

The rest of the team had yet to notice his panicking, nor did they notice as he landed hard on a rooftop, his boot catching on the concrete and nearly sending him flat on his face. He managed to keep his footing though, and heaved a deep breath.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw something flicker. He tried to turn but the fear that was curling around his throat made him choke on a breath. There was a flash of a blade and Tony closed his eyes, accepting his fate.

He should have listened to JARVIS. Wearing only the one item of green was foolhardy. He’d known the risks, and yet he’d still flown into a battle with so little as to be practically naked.

And now, here he was, being attacked by...

Nothing.

Wait, what?

Tony peeked through one of his eyes, then opened the other in surprise.

“I thought you agreed not to mess around, Stark,” said Loki. “Come on now, get back up there.”

“I can’t,” Tony said, shaking his head. His voice was shaking too, though he hoped that the suit’s speakers would hide that fact.

Loki frowned, and took half a step closer. He was wearing a lot of green, as per usual. Tony was almost jealous.

His absent musings halted as Loki raised his hand, and Tony watched as a shimmer of emerald curled around the god’s fingers. Tony flinched, but it didn’t feel like the magic was doing anything to him—

“There you go,” said Loki, grinning like the cat who got the cream. “You may thank me later.”

Then, before Tony could so much as ask him _what the hell he’d done_ , Loki vanished.

Goddamnit.

Slowly, Tony forced himself to turn around, surveying the area as best he could. Nothing appeared to have changed, and with the obvious exception of Loki, it seemed that the Avengers still had not noticed that Tony had left the fight. It had, after all, only been about half a minute.

“Sir?” asked JARVIS. “Are you all right?”

Tony swallowed. “Y-yeah, I think so.” He still didn’t relish the idea of jumping back into the fray without his usual lucky charm, and Loki hadn’t exactly managed to make him feel any better about it. “I just…”

“May I suggest you look down?” JARVIS’ voice was no longer concerned- rather, he seemed almost amused, so Tony didn’t feel the need to panic even if Loki _had_ done something to the suit.

Dropping his chin, he obligingly looked downwards and froze. Slowly, he raised his hands, watching in fascination - or maybe horror - as he twisted his hands in the sunlight, watching the metal glint.

They were green. A bright, horrible, flamboyant, _acid_ green.

Tony sucked in a sharp breath. He spun, quickly looking for something- ah yes, _there_. In his hurry he near stumbled over to the far side of the rooftop and stood in front of the glass windows of the neighbouring building.

He stared. It wasn’t just his hands.

His _whole suit_ was a shining metallic green.

Despite himself, Tony’s body relaxed at the sight, his breathing evening out and his mind quieting back down to just normal levels of drama. It helped him realise that there was something not right here, something that didn’t quite make sense. But he didn’t have time to be worrying- for all that he was an arrogant asshole, Loki had been right. Tony didn’t have the time.

“J,” Tony said firmly. “Make a note to strip and repaint this suit the moment we get back to the Tower.”

“Of course, Sir.”

And then, with nothing left to hold him back, Tony blasted back into the sky.

During the two minutes he’d been sidelined, the team seemed to have made some progress. Thor and Hulk were tag-teaming, and had created a pile of bots so high it almost looked like it was teetering. Doom was no longer floating- he was on the rooftop, battling it out toe to toe with Steve. From his vantage point, Tony could see Natasha on the rooftop as well- but Doom couldn’t.

“Uh, Tony?” asked Clint. “Did you notice that your suit is green?”

Tony let out a long breath. “Yeah, I did, actually.”

“It’s _what?”_ asked Thor, and Tony saw him tilt his head up to the sky- but thankfully, he was distracted when Hulk threw a Doombot at him. Thanks, Hulk.

Clint, though, was sitting on a rooftop out of the way of most of the mess. “Should I ask?”

“Um, no?” Tony spun, dodging another attack. “Just a run in with Sparkles over there, no need for concern. It won’t affect the fight.” He quickly charged down an avenue and around a corner, wanting to distance himself from Thor before the god had the chance to ask questions he didn’t know how to answer. As he did so, he swore he could hear a trickle of giggles through the comms.

Yeah, yeah, he thought. Hilarious. Fuck you, Loki.

Although– at least Loki’s magic had done the job. The rest of the battle was fought without any near death experiences, and it really was great fun watching Natasha pin Doom to the ground while Loki bound him tightly with magic. (At least for the moment. The villainous King of Latveria had a really annoying habit of getting himself released from prisons.)

It was only on the flight back to the Tower that Tony managed to muddle it through, sorting out the pieces and fitting them together until he properly realised what had put him so on edge back on that rooftop.

Tony hadn’t told any of the Avengers about his current attachment to a certain pigment, let alone _Loki_.

So how the hell had he known?

~•~

By the time Tony had finished peeling off the newly bright green suit and had prepped it for repainting, he had managed to convince himself of the validity of his suspicion- and by the time he’d made it to the common floor living room, he was seething.

He found Loki lounging on one of the couches, his legs stretched out across the pillows and neatly crossed, a book in his hand. The god pretended not to notice as Tony walked in, and didn’t even flinch as Tony stood over him.

“I know you’re the one trying to make me wear green,” Tony told him, cutting straight to the chase. “ _Stop_ trying to murder me.”

“Why ever would you think such a thing?” Loki asked as he turned a page.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tony replied sarcastically. “Maybe I just noticed that green seems to be your colour.”

Loki glanced over, expression bored. “Is it?”

Tony glanced at Loki’s sage-coloured shirt and forest green converse with exasperated frustration.

Loki simply smirked.

“Look,” Tony said. “I know you’ve got something to do with this—”

“Stark,” Loki interrupted, actually putting down his book long enough to catch Tony’s gaze properly. “Why would I be trying to murder you? I have only just been accepted by this team, why should I put that at risk?”

“Because you’re bored,” Tony accused.

Loki actually snorted at that, but recovered quickly. “Please. I have far better things to do than follow you around all day. Now _that_ would be boring.”

“Ouch,” Tony replied. “Excuse you. My life is incredibly fascinating.”

“If you were still being almost murdered every day I might be willing to believe that,” Loki said absently, picking up his book once more. “But I’ve heard that has not been the case recently.”

“Yeah, because I’ve been wearing _green_ ,” Tony snapped.

“It is the superior colour,” Loki commented. “Maybe the Norns are simply pleased with your fashion choices?”

Tony gnashed his teeth together, jaw working hard enough to ache. Why did Loki have to be so goddamn irritating?

“Fine, whatever,” Tony muttered, waving a dismissive hand and turning away. “Guess I’ll just have to work out the cause on my own.”

As he left the room, Tony thought he could feel Loki’s gaze burning into his back– but that was probably just wishful thinking.  

~•~

It felt wrong to be doing this. It had been weeks, _months_ since Tony had left the penthouse without something green, and here he was, actively subverting his own carefully adhered to rule. His body was almost in fight or flight mode, his steps slowing as he neared the main doors.

Just as he had at the beginning of the whole nightmare, he couldn’t help but wonder– what if his hunch was wrong? What if Loki had absolutely nothing to do with it, and this ended up being the last day of Tony’s life because he was dull enough to go outside without so much as jade cufflinks?

Nerve wracking didn’t begin to cover it, but there was… _something_ Loki had said that had managed to stick in Tony’s brain.

 _The superior colour_.

Yeah, okay, maybe Loki had just been pointing out that it was his favourite colour (like that wasn’t obvious enough already), but the word choice indicated something else.

 _Superior_.

Meaning, better than.

But better than _what?_

Well, going by the colour that Tony _used_ to wear most often before the green had invaded his wardrobe, and considering that his Iron Man suits were rather similar to what Thor seemed to have claimed for his own colour scheme, the answer couldn’t have been more obvious.

It was only natural progression then, really, that Tony should leave Avengers Tower after his conversation with Loki, walking to his favourite coffee shop with red-tinted sunglasses over his eyes, a bright red tie splayed across his chest, and not a single speck of green in sight.

Superior colour, his ass.

 _Let’s see what Loki makes of this_.

...The answer, apparently, was flamingoes.

Why flamingoes, Tony couldn’t say. But he knew what he saw, and a herd of freaking flamingoes stampeding down the sidewalk and sending the usual army of yellow cabs scattering in panic was not something he could have invented on his own.

They were all green, too.

The whole bloody lot of them.

Loki’s point couldn’t have been clearer if he’d _tried._

~•~

By the time Tony made it back to the Tower, a little ruffled and lightly dusted in bright green feathers, well, Loki was exactly where Tony had left him. Suspiciously though, he appeared no further through his book than he had been the hour before, and his gaze was not shifting across the page, seemingly staring at nothing.

“Okay,” Tony said, standing over Loki with his arms crossed. “Come on. What gives?”

This time, Loki put the book down immediately, swinging his legs around so that he was sitting straight and facing Tony properly.

“I’d have thought you would have worked it out by now,” Loki drawled. “You are a self-proclaimed genius, are you not?”

“Not just _self-_ proclaimed,” Tony countered dryly. “And yeah, you know I have. You also know that what I’m after is an explanation. Being a self-proclaimed genius yourself, and all.”

Rolling his eyes, Loki said, “What I do is of little consequence to you—”

“Like hell, I’ve nearly _died_ —”

“I would not have allowed it to get that far—”

“Oh, so you admit it?”

“All right,” Loki snapped. “So I wished to change your abysmal colour scheme. It was becoming an embarrassment.”

“What exactly do you have against me wearing red?” Tony asked. He had his suspicions, but he wanted to hear it. He _needed_ Loki to say it himself, because he couldn't chance making an assumption. Not with something like this. “Why do you even care what colour I wear?”

That, it seemed, was Loki’s breaking point. He pushed up onto his feet and got into Tony’s face, standing so close that he could see every shade of green in Loki’s eyes, shining bright with- no, that wasn’t quite anger, but it was certainly something _fierce_.

“Red is _Thor’s_ colour,” Loki hissed, his hands clenched tight by his sides. “Seeing you wear it, like you are declaring your– your allegiance, or your loyalty—”

“Loki,” Tony interrupted, speaking slow and calm. “What does it mean on Asgard, if someone wears someone else's colours?”

“It is a declaration,” Loki spat.

“And it doesn’t just mean allegiance or loyalty, does it?” Tony asked simply.

Loki glanced away.

“Well, that just sounds impractical,” Tony commented in a bid to break some of the tension. “I mean, there are only so many colours. There was bound to be a mix up eventually.”

“It does not apply to everyone,” Loki replied, his voice little more than a low growl. “Only the royal family or others of high standing may stake such a claim.”

“And _that_ is rather elitist,” Tony pointed out. “I’m not an Asgardian, so let’s just say it doesn’t apply to me—”

“But it applies to _me_ ,” Loki snapped.

Tony frowned. “And you don’t like it when I wear red.” Suddenly, it was like something clicked into place, and his eyes widened. “Oh, hell.”

It took about half a second for Loki’s expression to close off, and for Tony to start backtracking.

“No, wait a sec—”

“It is fine, Stark,” Loki hissed. “I understand that you do not see me in the same manner that I have come to see you—”

“Were you trying to flirt with me?” Tony realised incredulously. “This whole time?”

“Do not _mock_ me—”

“I’m not,” Tony insisted. “I swear, no mocking. I mean, it is a little bit strange, you have to admit. Who tries to flirt with someone by trying to make them wear a different colour, and who does _that_ by nearly killing them every other day?”

“I already told you that I would not have allowed it to go that far,” Loki replied sharply, though Tony could tell that the tone was only there to hide what lay underneath. “If you are only going to continue to ridicule my attempts to court you—”

“Wait _,_ really? You wanted to _court—_ ”

“—then I shall be leaving. I shall not suffer this.”

“Lokes, you’re not listening—”

“I do not need to hear you tell me once again how little you think of me,” Loki cut in.

“How little…” Tony stopped, and came to a solid conclusion. Deciding that verbal communication was going to get them nowhere, he simply grabbed the front of Loki’s green shirt and used it to yank him closer, pressing their lips together in an intense but gentle kiss. Going by the way Loki had been acting Tony was half expecting him to resist, but instead the god seemed to fall into the embrace, relaxing and wrapping his own arms around Tony just as tightly. It was short and chaste, and when they parted they moved only far enough for air, neither wishing to separate quite so soon.

From the look of surprised contentment that had swept across Loki’s face, Tony thought that maybe, the god was finally beginning to understand.

“Next time,” Tony said, whispering the words against Loki’s lips. “Please. Just ask.”

“Next time?” Loki asked breathily, beginning to smile.

“Yeah,” Tony replied. “You know, so long as you don’t actually manage to kill me before then.”

Loki looked about to shoot back with a complaint, but Tony leaned in the moment his lips parted and caught them with his own, sliding their mouths back together once again. This time, Loki did not relax- his fingers dug into Tony’s skin and pulled at his hair, and he moaned prettily when Tony responded by nipping at his lips.

They didn’t go any further than a kiss, all too aware of where they were and the fact that any of the Avengers - including Thor, dear god - could walk in at any moment. But oh, what a kiss.

Tony didn’t want it to end, and when Loki leaned back, he tried to chase Loki’s lips, managing a final peck before allowing it to come to a close. They remained entwined though, arms around waists and hips pressed together, close enough that their heavy breaths could be felt on each other’s skin.

“Well,” Loki said, that fierce look returning to his eyes, the intensity of it not dampened by his flushed cheeks and swollen lips in the slightest. “I certainly cannot allow you to continue parading around in Thor’s colours now.”

“I’m not going to stop wearing red,” Tony said, grinning as Loki let his head fall to Tony’s shoulder with a groan. “But… perhaps there’s a way we can compromise.”

~•~

When Pepper visited the common floor of Avengers Tower a few days later for Tony to sign some paperwork, he didn’t take too much note of the odd expression at first, thinking that maybe it was just a new variation on the usual ‘you’re late, Tony’ twist to her lips. But when she continued to stare in concern and refrained from actually handing him the papers, he started to worry.

“Pep?” Tony prompted, gently tugging at the documents in an effort to get her to hand them over. He had better things to be doing, after all.

“Tony,” she said, almost hesitantly.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Tony might have responded with something witty, but Pepper seemed honestly concerned. So, instead, he frowned and said, “Yeah, I’m fine, I promise. What’s going on?”

“You’re just…” She eyed him warily again, almost disbelievingly. “You’re not wearing anything green.”

Over on the couch, Loki started to cackle.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Tony grumbled. “And stop eavesdropping.”

“All right,” Loki said with a shrug. But instead of going back to whatever it was he was doing - helping Natasha cheat at Mario Kart against Thor, it looked like - he instead stood from his spot and crossed the room, sliding in close beside Tony and offering Pepper a bright smile. “Good morning, Miss Potts.” Then he turned to Tony with a raised brow.

Ha. Yes. No more eavesdropping. Very funny.

Tony rolled his eyes, and looked back to Pepper, who was now eyeing the too-small space between them suspiciously.

“I decided that trying to remember to wear something green every day was ridiculous. So I rectified the problem.” As he spoke, Tony began to roll up the sleeve of his shirt, baring his forearm. “See?”

Pepper blinked, staring down at the small, _green_ tattoo, outlined with a streak of gold. “It’s an apple.”

“Yeah, it means health and happiness or something,” Tony explained with a bright smile. “It’s for luck!”

Over in the kitchen, Clint snorted. “Oh, please,” he called. “We all know it’s to project how much you’re totally in love with Loki. Admit it.”

“Is everyone just listening in on my conversation now?” Tony complained lightly. “Come on, man.”

“I like it,” said Loki. He was close enough that he only had to shift a little to run his fingers across Tony’s skin, the magically-healed tattoo almost seeming to tingle at his touch, and Tony struggled to withhold a shudder.

“I am surprised you did not ink my brother’s name cross your skin,” Thor said from the couch, the game now apparently abandoned. His valiant effort to keep a straight face was ruined by a steady twitch around the edges of his mouth. “It would have the same affect on your health, no doubt.”

“Better, I imagine,” Natasha added, and Loki’s grin widened.

“Ha, yeah, you’re all comedians,” Tony said, though he was sure they could tell that he wasn’t really annoyed. It was hard to be annoyed, after all, when he only had to lean back half an inch to be pressed up against Loki’s side. Because while the god might be intense and maybe a little insane, Tony could find the softness hidden under the sharp edges- and he had come to cherish that little touch of chaos.

“We’re just pleased for you, Tony,” Pepper told him. “You seem happy.”

 _Happy_.

Huh.

It was a funny word, not one that Tony was wholly used to. But somehow, yeah, it fit. And as he met Loki’s gaze with the beginnings of a bright smile, Tony thought that being stuck with the colour green for the rest of his life might not be such a bad thing, after all.


End file.
